The Anniversary of Mrs Mable’s Death

The house will stand tall

The Anniversary of Mrs Mable’s Death

Every town has a ghost story that has been passed down from each generation to the next. The small town of Whisper’s Creek was no different. Each Halloween, groups of children would whisper the urban legend to the new kids in town.

A local middle school kid named Chris sent out a few invitations to a bunch of kids that he called ‘losers’ which included a number of kids that had just moved here. He thought it would be a great Halloween prank.

They were invited to an abandoned park on the other side of town, close to Mrs Mable’s house. Chris had set up a small firepit to set the mood. Everyone sat around the fire, some with a packet of marshmallows and others with nothing. Chris made a growl sound in the back of his throat to get everyone’s attention.

This is the tale of an old woman named Mrs Mable. She was born and raised in the town of Whisper’s Creek. Her parents had a house at the end of Gallows Hill road. They had plans to renovate, but as the days went by, so did their motivation to fix the place up. The house got older, just as they did, but it still remained intact, long after their deaths. The house had no life left in it. The locals petitioned to get it knocked down, but Mrs Mable was too stubborn to move. This was her home, and no one was going to take it away from her. At some point she died, and her body was left to rot. No one knows the exact time of her death because she had no family or friends to check up on her. Someone from the police force would check up on her frequently but they hadn’t in a while. She would light a candle in her window to let them know that was she safe and sound. That is how they found her body, there was no light in the window. Her body was buried in the back of her yard to be forgotten and the house was ready to be demolished, well that is what they thought. The next day a few tradies rocked up to help with the demolition. As they entered the house, the temperature dropped significantly to the point that they could see their breath when they exhaled. One of the tradies took that as a sign to get the hell out, so he ran straight to the front door and never looked back. The next day his colleagues never showed up to work, he refused to go back to the house and his boss had to go check on the men. He found bloody footsteps in the house and followed their trail into the kitchen. The missing men were in a puddle of their own blood with their arms and legs ripped off. On the wall, written in their own blood, it said, this house will always stand tall. The boss ran out and called the police who dealt with the dead bodies. He refused to go ahead with the demolition, so the house stayed there to rot. It was believed that the house was haunted by Mrs Mable’s ghost who wanted to protect her house beyond the grave. So, who wants to go check out her house? The last one there will remain a loser for the rest of their lives.

All the kids ran around the block to the end of Gallows Hill road. Chris was right about the house; it had been left to rot. There was a strong smell that floated through the air and the house looked like it would fall to the ground at any minute. As they stepped onto the dead grass, their faces dropped because the candle in the window had been lit. A few of them ran off but two new kids had stayed strong. They didn’t believe that the dead walk amongst us. Chris was the first one to enter the house, the others followed behind him. He dared them to go down to the basement. They wanted to be popular so bad that they obeyed his command. Chris locked them in the basement by blocking the door from his end with decayed furniture. On the way out, Chris noticed the temperature drop and he could see his breath. His ego got the better of him and he shouted out I am not afraid of the wicked old lady who lives on Gallows Hill, you can’t kill me, everyone loves me. Mrs Mable’s shadow appeared in the corner and he tried to make a run for it, but with her ghostly strength, she slammed him against the wall. She repeated in a deep voice, this house will stand. She pulled his limbs off his body and chucked them against the wall. Just like the tradies, he died in his own blood. Mrs Mable cleared the door for the kids that were stuck in the basement. Their cries for help were so loud that it brought out the kindness that Mrs Mable once had. The kids ran past Chris’ dead body. One looked back and saw that the candle in the window had been blown out. After Mrs Mable’s body was burnt there was no sign of her spirit left. The town finally demolished her house without trouble.

urban legend
Louise Sly
Louise Sly
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Louise Sly

My name is Louise. I am a semi-functional adult that can usually be found with a book in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. A graduate of a Bachelor of Creative Writing at RMIT. I have several short pieces published in an Anthology.

See all posts by Louise Sly